BANG!

  The door to one of the royal kitchens slammed open.

  As the chefs, assistants, and other basic workers turned to see who would dare disturb the carefully controlled chaos of a royal kitchen, they saw a completely unexpected figure.

  Standing in the middle of the doorway was a young, frail-looking boy wearing crumpled clothes with a hand-shaped bruise on one side of his face and a bloody bump on his forehead.

  The figure's purple eyes swept over them derisively before a childish command came out of his mouth.

  "I'm hungry. Please make me breakfast."

  After several seconds of staring, the kitchen workers finally realized that it was the rarely seen 13th prince.

  And once they did, everyone from the scullery maid to the head chef himself burst out laughing.

  What kind of craziness was this?

  Did the 13th prince think that just because it was his birthday yesterday and that he had reached adulthood, anything had changed?

  Nonsense!

  "Did you hear me? Make me breakfast. I'm hungry." Caellum repeated as he looked over the entire kitchen, taking in the expressions.

  While everyone seemed to be laughing, their eyes frequently looked back at the heavyset, sweaty man wearing a chef's hat and laughing the loudest.

  In fact, in the entire kitchen, only two people didn't participate in the raucous laughter and therefore stood out.

  The first was an older woman with a silver stripe in the front of her brown hair, who quickly made eye contact with Caellum before looking away.

  And the second was a young woman with a similar silver stripe in her own reddish brown hair, scrubbing the dishes hard as if whatever was going on had nothing to do with her.

  The rest of the kitchen staff continued laughing and even pointed while looking between the man Caellum assumed was the head chef and himself.

  "Did you hear me?" Caellum asked again, his tone still calm and polite, which made people laugh harder.

  Was this tiny, polite, neglected prince supposed to be scary?

  A newborn puppy was scarier than this!

  With thunderous steps, the head chef, a heavy-set man hired by the queen due to his absolute obedience and incredible skill at taking credit for the work that happened in the kitchen, moved in front of Caellum, trying to pressure him with his bigger size and presence.

  He looked down at the 13th prince, who was much smaller than him, tilted his head to the side, and pretended to pick it, then flicked something at Caellum before speaking in an arrogant tone.

  "Can you repeat what you said? I don't think I heard you."

  Disgusting.

  Caellum was truly disgusted and wanted to lash out immediately.

  But as a former Mafia boss, he had met plenty of disgusting people in his past, both inside and out of his own organization.

  He had enough self-discipline to give the man a warning and a chance to correct his actions before teaching him a lesson.

  Stepping forward into the head chef's personal space and maintaining eye contact, he picked the wad of wax off his body and smeared it on the chef's apron.

  "If you can't hear, then clean your ears out in a place that's not a kitchen. Secondly, address me as your highness. And thirdly, I said I was hungry. Go and make me food. Please."

  The head chef met Caellum's purple eyes before bursting out laughing.

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  Squatting down so he was eye level with Caellum, he shoved his face right against the prince and let the stench of his breath waft over.

  "The 13th prince must be joking. This isn't a place where you can make demands. By order of the queen, I'm sure you've been served breakfast already. Your next meal isn't until dinner. So make like a mouse and disappear, otherwise I'll add something a little painful to your meals. A little decoction that got sent in, just for you."

  Eyes curved into a cold smile, Caellum grabbed the head chef's neck and tapped into the strange ability he found himself leaning on more and more, controlling it so that it wrapped only around the man before him.

  He poured his previously restrained emotions into the aura, imbuing it with the fullest extent of his murderous rage at the current situation.

  He wanted the chef to understand that, if it weren't for the current circumstances, the dirty chef's knife hanging off the apron would have been used to chop the hand that dared to flick filth at him and chop the tongue out of the mouth that dared to talk to him crazily.

  I'm somebody who's been killing people for well over two decades.

  Stop messing around with me, or I'll make you the first body I kill in this new world, understand.

  Understand?

  It was a silent message imbued into the strange ability he had gained, and he hoped the man understood it.

  And he could see that the man did.

  The head chef's eyes went wide, and his eyes began flickering from side to side in fear.

  His pulse beneath his hand raced, sweat oozed out of the chef's body, and the man began panting and choking on nothing as his entire body froze.

  He smelled of fear.

  And Caellum liked it.

  When people looked like this, when they could taste their mortality, they became easier to talk to.

  Pliant, like dough.

  It made him wonder why they couldn't always act like this.

  He never understood why people pushed him to get out of character when he started off being polite.

  "Three," Caellum whispered calmly.

  "Th-three???" the head chef gasped in confusion, even though he couldn't understand what was going on.

  It felt like something dangerous was wrapping around him and squeezing him to death.

  Even though the slender fingers on his neck were weak, he felt so afraid, like a knife was being held to his throat, his body was covered in goosebumps and sweat, and each time he tried to meet those purple eyes, he had to look away.

  He felt as if he didn't, he would die.

  "This is the third time I'm repeating myself, and it's tiring. I don't feel well, my body hurts, and I'm hungry. Go make me breakfast. A good one, fit for the king himself. Understand?"

  "Uckhuh."

  Garbled words came out of the chef's mouth, causing Caellum to tighten his fingers.

  "Speak. Are you making it, or do I need to find a new chef?" Caellum asked calmly as his thumb gently caressed the chef's throat.

  To the chef, those cold, thin fingers felt like the touch of death.

  The chef immediately forgot that this was the royal place where no one could be harmed without the king's order and assumed that the prince had lost his mind and was ready for a double suicide.

  No, no, no!

  Who cared about pride and what the queen wanted?

  He had to survive by any means necessary!

  "I-I'll make it." The fat chef gasped as he clutched his heart.

  "You'll make it well? Nice and tasty?"

  "Ye-yes."

  "Yes, what?"

  "Yes, your highness." The head chef stuttered.

  "Good man. Leave it on a tray outside when you're done. Understand?"

  "Ye-yes, your highness."

  Releasing his neck, Caellum patted the chef's apron and glanced at the rest of the kitchen staff, who were staring at the two of them in confusion.

  Giving them a warm smile, he spun around and left.

  And the moment the door shut behind him, the kitchen exploded into motion with everyone complaining.

  "What did that unwanted bastard say to the chef?"

  "How dare he come in here with that ugly face?"

  "Who let him out of that shack he calls a palace?"

  "Chef, why did you let him grab you like that? You should have slapped his face!"

  "Shut up!! Shut up! All of you!" the chef yelled out, glaring at them.

  Now that the oppressive presence was gone, he felt furious that he was ever afraid of that loser of a prince!

  He had lost face in front of everyone and needed to get it back!

  "You go report to the queen! The 13th prince has lost his mind! You start making his food. No, never mind, I'll do it personally! I'll give him something tasty to eat! That bastard! I'll show him that he can't speak to this Harold anyway he likes!" the chef roared before patting his apron.

  What?

  Where the hell had his treasured knife gone?

  Newly angered, the chef began yelling again at the kitchen staff, even as they reluctantly got to work while chattering about what had just happened.

  The only people who didn't participate in the conversation were the two women with silver stripes in their hair.

  The older one looked between the door the 13th prince had just gone through and the head chef, calmly took off her apron, made her excuses, and dragged the confused younger one out of the kitchen through a different exit.

  And Caellum, who was standing outside the main exit, just smiled at the servant and twirled his fingers at him while sending an imposing aura his way.

  The man met his eyes, gasped in fear, and ran back inside like a scared little dog.

  Satisfied, Caellum retrieved the aura that wanted to spread and turned to the chamberlain, who had reappeared, and stared him stoically.

  "Feel free to collect the tray so you know I didn't tamper with it. I'll be back."

  "Where are you going?"

  "I'm on a deadline now. Need to get food from all the other kitchens before the queen is alerted. I'll be back. Make sure you stay hidden. Or don't. I don't care."

  Done saying what he needed to say, Caellum cracked his neck and walked away.

  And of course, the chef's knife was tucked into his belt.